head. “You’re not going through the veil.” She held up a hand to stop him as he began to argue. “We put in a back door to the chamber after Moira insisted that Conn accompany her on missions.” Moira, Simone’s cousin, was an Enforcer, and her vampire mate just had to tag along. “This is the back entrance. No veils.”
He blinked and uncrossed his arms. “That’s a security risk.”
“One we had to take.” She lifted a shoulder. “There’s plenty of security, in case you missed the crazy maze we had to go through to get here. Plus, there were several coded doors we went through before reaching the last room.” The emotional armor shielding her started to crack, and she scrambled to hold herself together. “You really can’t have meant to risk your life like that.”
He moved then, coming at her. “You’re not doing this alone.”
She shook her head, wanting to back up, but her feet remained frozen in place. “Nick, no—”
“Yes.” He paused in front of her, gently grasping her chin. “I’m familiar with your laws, all laws, actually. I will represent you, but you have to make me one promise.”
Butterflies blasted through her abdomen. “What promise?”
“If it looks like things are going south, and I have a chance to get you out of Ireland, you let me.”
What? She tried to shake her head, but he held her easily in place. “I’m not running. What are you planning?”
“Backup plan, Zaychik moy .” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I always have a backup plan. You know that.”
She swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm. “I will not run.”
“You’ll do what I tell you to do, if it means surviving.” No give showed on his face.
Temper, finally, took over her emotions. Flames shot down her arms. “You do not tell me what to do.”
“There it is.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Keep that anger with you today. I have a feeling we’ll both need it.”
Her temper flew. Oh yeah? Man, she was tired of him messing with her equilibrium. She was Simone Brightston, for Christ’s sake. Time to throw him off balance. She grabbed the back of his head and lifted up, angling her lips perfectly inside of his. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth.
He stiffened, his lips nearly pressing into a line.
She smiled just enough to let him know he couldn’t fool her. Nicholai Veis had forgotten whom he was dealing with. She wasn’t some wilting human female who wouldn’t bite back. She was Simone Brightston, member of the Coven Nine, and a badass, bitchy witch. Her tongue flicked along his bottom lip, then she slowly, so damn slowly, moved away.
She leaned back, satisfaction relaxing every muscle in her body. If the demon thought he could take the upper hand with her, he’d forgotten her power.
His lids were half-closed, and a fire burned in those dark eyes. Crimson darkened his high cheekbones, and his nostrils flared like a panther catching a scent. Tension emanated from him in waves.
Her mouth curved in a smile. Triumph felt good.
Then he moved.
Faster than any shifter, he clamped both hands on her arms and lifted, shoving her against the rock wall. She let out a startled eek , her hands fluttering in protest to his rigid biceps.
Held half a foot off the ground, she barely had time to register her position before his mouth crashed down on hers.
Fire exploded inside her, burning and spiraling out. He kissed her hard, going deep, banishing every thought she’d ever had. Sensations, dark and demanding, softened her muscles. She moaned, overtaken with impossible need.
Hunger, so strong it clawed, stole all rationality from her.
The pain of the instant craving fired through her, bringing a shot of true fear. Her body was taking over, and nothing else mattered.
As if he sensed her fear, he softened his assault, reducing the pressure and drawing her away from the edge. His mouth still worked hers, showing her the devastating
He blinked and uncrossed his arms. “That’s a security risk.”
“One we had to take.” She lifted a shoulder. “There’s plenty of security, in case you missed the crazy maze we had to go through to get here. Plus, there were several coded doors we went through before reaching the last room.” The emotional armor shielding her started to crack, and she scrambled to hold herself together. “You really can’t have meant to risk your life like that.”
He moved then, coming at her. “You’re not doing this alone.”
She shook her head, wanting to back up, but her feet remained frozen in place. “Nick, no—”
“Yes.” He paused in front of her, gently grasping her chin. “I’m familiar with your laws, all laws, actually. I will represent you, but you have to make me one promise.”
Butterflies blasted through her abdomen. “What promise?”
“If it looks like things are going south, and I have a chance to get you out of Ireland, you let me.”
What? She tried to shake her head, but he held her easily in place. “I’m not running. What are you planning?”
“Backup plan, Zaychik moy .” His gaze dropped to her mouth. “I always have a backup plan. You know that.”
She swallowed, suddenly feeling too warm. “I will not run.”
“You’ll do what I tell you to do, if it means surviving.” No give showed on his face.
Temper, finally, took over her emotions. Flames shot down her arms. “You do not tell me what to do.”
“There it is.” He leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. “Keep that anger with you today. I have a feeling we’ll both need it.”
Her temper flew. Oh yeah? Man, she was tired of him messing with her equilibrium. She was Simone Brightston, for Christ’s sake. Time to throw him off balance. She grabbed the back of his head and lifted up, angling her lips perfectly inside of his. Her eyelids fluttered shut, and she slid her tongue inside his mouth.
He stiffened, his lips nearly pressing into a line.
She smiled just enough to let him know he couldn’t fool her. Nicholai Veis had forgotten whom he was dealing with. She wasn’t some wilting human female who wouldn’t bite back. She was Simone Brightston, member of the Coven Nine, and a badass, bitchy witch. Her tongue flicked along his bottom lip, then she slowly, so damn slowly, moved away.
She leaned back, satisfaction relaxing every muscle in her body. If the demon thought he could take the upper hand with her, he’d forgotten her power.
His lids were half-closed, and a fire burned in those dark eyes. Crimson darkened his high cheekbones, and his nostrils flared like a panther catching a scent. Tension emanated from him in waves.
Her mouth curved in a smile. Triumph felt good.
Then he moved.
Faster than any shifter, he clamped both hands on her arms and lifted, shoving her against the rock wall. She let out a startled eek , her hands fluttering in protest to his rigid biceps.
Held half a foot off the ground, she barely had time to register her position before his mouth crashed down on hers.
Fire exploded inside her, burning and spiraling out. He kissed her hard, going deep, banishing every thought she’d ever had. Sensations, dark and demanding, softened her muscles. She moaned, overtaken with impossible need.
Hunger, so strong it clawed, stole all rationality from her.
The pain of the instant craving fired through her, bringing a shot of true fear. Her body was taking over, and nothing else mattered.
As if he sensed her fear, he softened his assault, reducing the pressure and drawing her away from the edge. His mouth still worked hers, showing her the devastating
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